


Tales of Femslash week

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Tales of Berseria, Tales of Legendia, Tales of Series, Tales of Vesperia, Tales of Xillia, Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: Day 1: Flowers; RistelleDay 2: Passion; RosaliDay 3: Storybook; RistelleDay 4: Dreams; VeleanorDay 5: Tragedy; Fenimore/ShirleyDay 6: Celebration; Milla/Leia(Day 7 will be posted separately)





	1. Day 1: Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rita has liked Estelle for a long time but her doubt holds her back from telling her.

Rita’s heart pitters in her chest for at least the fifth time that day. It’s odd, she thinks, that it does it so often now that she’s met Estelle. Never once did it before, but now it is a constant reminder of how much she treasures the time she has with her, even if it is limited. Which of course it is. Because Rita’s never had constants in her life aside from her research. At the end of the day, you only have yourself. At least, that’s the mentality she grew up with. As much as Rita wants to become even closer to the girl—to let her know how much she means to her—she’s still scared of the loss she knows she’ll face eventually. She’s already lost everyone else she’s ever considered caring about; it is inevitable that Estelle will eventually abandon her as well

The thing is that Estelle makes her slip. She makes her forget for entire days that this isn’t a lasting promise. That they won’t be friends for the rest of time. That they won’t spend the rest of their lives seeing each other every day.

Today is one of those days, with the sun shining bright across the horizon and colorful flowers decorating the landscape, with Estelle sitting in the meadow beaming in that way she does while holding a hastily constructed bouquet of various colors. Not the work of a florist by any means, the mixture of orange, yellow, red, pink, and blue still somehow looks compatible and refined when the girl holds it out to her.

Rita’s eyes widen the tiniest bit and she shakes her head. “Flowers don’t suit me.”

“Sure they do.” A second later, Estelle has thrust an orange hydrangea behind her ear.

Feeling along the delicate petals, Rita can feel her face flushing. What is she supposed to do with a bouquet anyway? Even if they were not on the constant move, she would never be tidy enough to keep enough space free for something of pure decoration. But when Estelle forces the flowers into her hands and she brings her nose down for the smallest of whiffs, her mind changes instantly. This bouquet could never be pure decoration.

On impulse, she picks a nearby tulip the color of a ripening cheery and stuffs it behind Estelle’s own ear. The princess giggles at the action, looking more regale and beautiful in the backlight of the sun than she’s ever seen her. It takes a moment for Rita to remember that staring isn’t proper in most situations, and she looks away mumbling, “See they suit you much better.”

Her eyes are brought right back when her hands are grasped in the other girl’s. “I’ll treasure it.” She sounds so sincere that Rita’s heart nearly aches. She’s losing herself a little bit at a time. One push and she will give in, she knows. What she needs is a breather.

As much as it pains her, Rita pulls her hands away, ignoring Estelle’s pouting expression, to snatch a flower at random from beside her. With unsteady motions, she plucks the petals off one at a time. Honestly, it’s silly that she’s giving her fate over to such a childish superstition, but her higher brain is currently out of commission and she is frankly tired of holding back. So, she ignores the mocking critic in her head and Estelle’s questioning voice, focusing instead on that lilting back and forth— _she loves me, she loves me not—_ until there is only one petal left _._

With wide eyes and shaking hand, she meets Estelle’s gaze once more. “I have wanted to tell you something for a while now…” She trails off, still scared to take the leap before seeing proof of solid ground on the other side. Estelle lacing their fingers together is more than the nudge she needs. Swallowing the thickness in her throat, she forces her voice to remain steady. “I care about you a lot, Estelle. I…don’t think I’ve ever cared about anyone as much as I do about you.”

Rita studies her reaction closely. A crinkle at her eyes, an upturn of her lips. Something that had been set to bursting inside Rita deflates leaving excess space in her chest once more. “Oh, Rita!” Estelle’s absolutely beaming now and her fingers are tracing along her palm. “I’m so glad you told me!”

“You are?”

“Of course, silly. I care about you a lot, too.”

“You do?” She supposes she must sound like an imbecilic but Estelle’s smile does not falter—if anything it grows even wider.

“Very much!” Her voice is excessively high and enthusiastic and Rita cannot control the emotions stirring inside her. She is in the in-between now. She sees the land, is reaching toward it for near life, but she’s still not there yet; she’s still dangling.

“Then…um, when we all head home…” Her face heats again because she’s not sure how to best phrase her question. “What are you planning to do?” _Return to the castle, of course_ , her brain answers.

“I’m still deciding. Halure seems nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she answers without much thought because she’s still processing that she will not be returning to the castle. Silence stretches on as they contemplate the future. Diverting her eyes to their joined hands, she asks quietly, “Would you mind if I joined you? Wherever it is you end up?”

Estelle leans in close, so close that Rita can feel her breath when she exhales. “Mind? I would love for you to join me.”

Earth has formed beneath her, and Rita heaves an exhale before allowing her forehead to press against the princess’s. “It’s a date.”


	2. Day 2: Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alisha is going to make Rose tell her what happened to Sorey no matter what it takes.

Alisha storms into the hotel room. It’s unladylike, but right now she doesn’t care. Her emotions have been strung along for too long. Rose lounges on one of the beds, entirely unimpressed by her show of irritation. “Just tell me what happened.”

“I already told you, just leave it alone.”

“Do you have any idea what it’s been like knowing he’s been gone these months and not knowing why?”

“No, I don’t. But princess, this doesn’t concern you.” Her posture is lazy, voice provoking.

Alisha swipes her hand. “I’m a part of this if you like it or not. You can’t keep me in the dark forever.”

“Can’t I? When you are already blind?”

That hurt. Alisha turned her face away in shame. “As if it’s a choice. I wanted to be there with you all. I wanted to so badly. But all I did was get in the way.”

“That’s right, princess.” There it was again, princess. The title sounded insulting coming from her lips. “You should just mind your own business so we can do our jobs.”

“Damn it!” She doesn’t usually swear, but she doesn’t usually allow herself to become this worked up either. “Why are you being like this? Sorey was my _friend_. I deserve to know.”

Rose gives a bitter chuckle. “I don’t owe you anything.”

On a better day, she might beg, but real anger is beginning to churn in her chest. “I demand that you tell me this instant.”

“Or what? You’ll arrest me? Under what authority? I’m not from Hyland, remember?”

Alisha shrieks, lunging at her. Rose’s eyes light with challenge, and she lungs back, forcing Alisha back against the nearest bed.

“I’ll…I’ll—” Her mind is spinning in blank circles. What can she do? Then, without rhyme or reason, she’s kissing her. Rose pulls back, confusion written on her face. She isn’t angry, more…thoughtful. Alisha is suddenly aware of how close they are. She’s flat against the bed with Rose’s body hovering right above her. Just a little closer and…

“What in the hell was that?”

Alisha’s mind stutters. What was it? “A threat,” she says. “Tell me or else I’ll kiss you again.”

Rose straightens her posture, a smug expression on her face. “Fine. Do it.”

“What?” Alisha’s anger has all-but disappeared now, embarrassment taking its place. She surely can’t back out now, can she? “Fine!” she stutters out.

She sits up, pressing their lips together softly. Rose is quick to react, though, pushing them back down flush against the bed. Her lips work against hers insistently. Alisha’s mind is becoming hazy. Her hands find Rose’s upper arms and hold there. Rose’s body is warm against hers. It’s nice.

Finally, Rose pulls back to allow them to breathe. Her smirk reminds Alisha of their conversation. “That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, sweetheart.”

As condescending as it is, the endearment makes her face warm. “For the love of Seraphim, just tell me!”

Rose heaves an exaggerated sigh. “You really aren’t about to give up, are you?”

Alisha balls her fists. “No.”

Rose climbs off her, sitting on the edge of the bed instead. “Okay.”

Alisha blinks. “Really?”

“Do you want to hear it or not?”

“Yes, yes, please.” Alisha sits up quickly, full attention at the ready.

“He’s asleep.”

She waits, but Rose doesn’t continue. “That’s it?” she asks annoyed.

“Yep.”

Alisha shrieks, plopping back onto the bed again. “You are hopeless.”

Rose side-eyes her. “Yeah, yeah.”

“The worst.”

She chuckles and the sound is light, genuine. “Can’t deny it.”

“Hey,” Alisha rolls onto her side, facing her, “it’s okay.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, composure shaky.

“I get it. You don’t want me to worry. You want to be the one to shoulder it all.” She reaches for her hand, surprised by how calloused it is. “You’ve dealt with a lot already. Besides, it’s honestly killing me not knowing.”

Groaning, Rose whirls on her. “You are killing me!”

“Me?”

“You.” She gestures at her crudely. “You’ve got this all wrong. You shouldn’t be threatening me. You should be bribing me with what I get _if_ I tell you.”

It takes a moment for realization to hit her, but when it does Alisha can only stare. Rose _wants_ her to kiss her. She…She…Again, Rose diverts her wheeling mind. The woman crouches over her, face impossibly close. “Has anyone told you you have the most gorgeous eyes?”

There’s no more room for doubt, now. Something fits into place, and Alisha kisses her again, hand finding her back this time. The kiss is slow but lingering. It’s real, without challenge or anger. Just desire. She’s slow to open her eyes when they break apart, the feeling of her lips too pleasant to let go immediately. Her eyes snap open when Rose begins chuckling.

“It’s like you’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“I haven’t.”

It’s Rose’s turn to be dumbfounded. “You’re shitting me?”

“No. I have never kissed anyone.”

Rose flops onto her back beside her. “Jeez. You could have said something.”

Alisha smiles, brushing a hand through her hair. “I was the one to kiss you, so…”

“True.” She’s smiling too now, and the air between them is finally settling into something more natural. “Okay.” There is a brief pause before she goes into explicit detail about what happened to Sorey. He isn’t dead, she assures her repeatedly. They just won’t be seeing him again.

Alisha is silent for a long time, digesting the information. “Thank you.”

“Huh?”

“For telling me.”

Rose snorts. “I really don’t get you.”

“That’s fine. It just means we need to get to know each other better.”

Rose smirks. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t easily give up on a challenge.”


	3. Day 3: Storybook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Estelle knows what love is supposed to feel like because of the books she reads. She thinks that's what it is she's feeling for Rita. What she doesn't know is whether or not Rita is in love with her as well.

Estelle might have lived in a castle, but she grew up inside the world of books. She might be a restricted princess, but she has been heroic knights, vengeful warlocks, and crime detectives. She’s lived a thousand lives and spent many an hour contemplating life and the people in it. Every person has their own struggles and redeeming qualities. Every person should be respected, and love is as simple as finding it. These are the lessons her books taught her and they outstand all the noble instructions she has been given over the years. Which is why when she meets Rita, whose stammering embarrassment always makes Estelle giggle and whose attention constantly sends her heartbeat sprinting, she knows. Well, she doesn’t _know_. It isn’t like she’s ever loved someone before (aside from her family), but she knows what love is supposed to be like and knows that this is the closest thing she has experienced.

She wonders too if Rita feels the same way.

The clues are there: her blushes, averting eyes, the affectionate way she sometimes mutters her name in sleep. Yet, Rita makes no action. She makes no confession or advance which leaves Estelle wondering if she is mistaking things. She’s been crime detectives, but she’s never personally investigated a situation before. She isn’t a scientist who can run numerous tests to rule out possibilities. All she is is a young sheltered girl making assumptions.

So, she waits. It isn’t that difficult given everything else going on, and she doesn’t mind being Rita’s friend. But when everything’s done and she makes up her mind to move to Halure, she realizes something. Rita doesn’t have a home to return to. She never had much of a home to begin with being both an orphan and an outcast. It’s then that Rita’s personality sank in. While Estelle’s never had to worry about others abandoning her, Rita’s never been allowed not to. She’s read about characters in similar situations and how they closed themselves off as a form of protection. Estelle still doesn’t want to push, but she wants her to know she won’t ever choose to abandon her, so she asks Rita to join her.

Rita blushes and stammers and there is something hidden in her eyes that Estelle never noticed before. Estelle reaches for her hand, loving how warm it is in hers. Rita’s mouth gapes, but Estelle just smiles and squeezes a bit tighter. “You’re so adorable, Rita.”

“N-no, I’m not,” she grumbles, but there is obvious affection there.

“So will you?”

“I—I mean, I don’t have anywhere else to go, so…”

“Yay!” Estelle is truly ecstatic and she wraps the other girl in a hug feeling bolder than usual. “I can’t wait to go home shopping with you!” She says it in a tone that’s playful yet genuine, giving Rita just enough room to decide which way she wants to take it.

Rita’s remained stiff throughout the hug, but now her hand gives a light touch at Estelle’s back. “Uh, yeah.”

When Estelle pulls back, Rita is redder than she’s ever seen her. Her hearts thumps. “Hey, Rita?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you mind if I kissed you?”

“Huh?” Estelle can almost see steam rising from her ears and giggles. Then Rita inclines her head before murmuring so low Estelle nearly misses it, “Go ahead.”

So, Estelle does, beaming all the while. It’s gentle and chaste and everything she’s been dreaming of. Rita is soft and comforting against her and warmth spreads through her limbs. Breaking away, she rests their foreheads together. Rita refuses to meet her eyes, breathing shallow. Glancing just beyond her to the beauty of the great Halure tree, Estelle can’t help the words that come to mind.

 _And then they lived happily ever after_.

  
  



	4. Day 4: Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor regrets never telling Velvet her true feelings. At night, her mind wanders into what could have been.

Eleanor’s biggest regret was that she never told Velvet how she felt. She could handle being separated from her—she even told herself she could have handled rejection. What she couldn’t handle was wondering what if. What could they have shared if only she had said something? Could anything have been changed? As doubtful as it was, the thought lingered.

It grew, rearing its head so high it messed with her waking mind. Each night, when sleep found her, so did Velvet. Her lips curled upward, hand placed on her jutting hip, hair in a long braid. She looked peaceful, more peaceful than Eleanor had ever seen her while awake. Her clothes were modest and her stance relaxed, no tension in her muscles as if anticipating an attack at any moment. This was a Velvet who appeared not to know battle or pain or loss. This was a smiling, beautiful Velvet who welcomed Eleanor as if she were coming home.

The woman’s words and gestures came freely. An arm around her shoulder, a pat on the head, _welcome back_ and _I’ve missed you._ It took Eleanor much longer to speak, tongue tied and dry mouthed. She wasn’t sure what this was. A hopeful dream? A memory brought to life? One thing was sure, though. It wasn’t real; it couldn’t be.

“You seem so happy,” she finally said, which earned her a hand-covered giggle.

Velvet tilted her head in an innocent gesture. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because—” Eleanor stopped herself, refusing to dispel this happy moment. “No reason,” she finished, waving it away with her hand. “I’m just glad.”

“Well, good.” Velvet smooshed her closer to her side. “I like seeing you happy as well. Come on, dinner’s ready and Laphicet’s been foaming at the mouth for a while now.”

Eleanor’s heart picked up. She hadn’t seen Laphicet in some time, busy as he was with his new duties—but, oh. This wasn’t her Laphicet, but Velvet’s. Still, she smiled. This was Velvet’s happy ever after (beginning?), after all, not her own. Yet, when they walked inside, she was surprised to find not one Laphicet but two. They were near-identical, but Eleanor could still tell them apart. Velvet’s brother’s eyes were softer, his complexion fairer, his hair looser. Phi carried an air of maturity the other lacked. While Laphi gave her a faint smile at her entry, Phi’s entire face lit up, hair antenna twitching once.

“Eleanor, you’re home!”

 “Yep,” she said as naturally as she could with her heart jackhammering in her chest. Home was such a nice word. Touching her chest briefly, she settled onto the chair next to Phi she assumed was her own.

Velvet made her way to the table, pausing to pile their plates up with beef and potatoes before sitting herself. Just as Eleanor reached for her fork, she was surprised to hear Velvet speak in a low murmur. “Thank for this blessing of food and family.” At this, the woman found Eleanor’s hand and squeezed. “May the food nurture our bodies and invigorate us to complete our daily tasks, and may we brighten each other’s hearts.”

The others began to dig in, but Eleanor’s attention remained solely on Velvet. That was so unlike the Velvet she knew, the one who damned the world and what it had done to her. Had her outlook on life truly changed so drastically? It pained Eleanor’s heart to consider it. She’d yet to release Velvet’s hand, and she gave it her own squeeze.

Velvet’s eyes met hers over a forkful of potato. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Yeah.” She gave a quick nod before stabbing at a bit of beef. It was rich in flavor, and she readily praised the woman on her cooking.

Velvet giggled. “Don’t you ever get tired of complimenting me?”

“You deserve them.”

Their fingers were still laced, and Velvet flexed her fingertips against the back of Eleanor’s hand. “Keep being like this and I might kiss you.” She leaned forward as if to carry through with the threat.

Laphi groaned. “Do you two have to be this gross at the table? I’m going to lose my appetite.”

Velvet adjusted herself in her seat, finally pulling her hand away. “That would be horrible, wouldn’t it?”

Laphi gave her a shriveled scowl before sticking a gigantic forkful of beef into his mouth.

Phi leaned closer to Eleanor with a soft whine. “Well, I think you two are cute.”

Eleanor smiled despite the blush she could feel coming on. “I think you’re cute too.” This earned her own scowl, but Eleanor didn’t mind in the slightest.

They ate in peace until the dream swirled away into nothingness. Eleanor awoke alone in her bed. Her home was small, but at times like these it felt enormous. She missed the coziness of a full family like in the dream. She missed traveling with the others. She missed her parents.

Eleanor stared at the dark ceiling above her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again soon. The feeling lingered, keeping her mind on edge. Perhaps tomorrow she would visit Maotelus’ shrine. It always made her feel better to vent to him even if he rarely spoke to her in return. Maybe she would write Eizen another letter even though she knew she would never receive a reply. She could go into town, buy a bunch of food, and cook something nice for a change. She could sit at the table and pretend she had said something. She could close her eyes and pretend it had mattered.


	5. Day 5: Tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She never meant to become attached to Shirley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains canonical character death

Fenimore was used to negativity. Few things in life made her genuinely happy. It was easier to scorn than to grow attached, since in the end, everything just let you down. She never meant to find happiness in Shirley, to cling to her companionship. Shirley was hopeful and trusting. They were cut from different twines of rope that shouldn’t have fit together, yet somehow Shirley had braided herself around her before Fenimore even realized it.

Now she was loath to losing her. Which she would one way or another. For one thing, she was the Marines. Once the ceremony was through, she would no longer be Shirley but Nerifes incarnate. Then there was Senel. That damn Orerines who had bewitched her into believing that they could be trusted. As if those aliens had not taken over and twisted history itself to paint the Ferines as the invaders. As much as Fenimore hated them, if Senel was what made Shirley happy, she would accept it—no, she would support it. If she would lose Shirley to Nerifes, she might as well support her happiness in the meantime.

“You should tell him,” she said straight-faced.

Shirley turned her face away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Fenimore was unimpressed. The girl’s feelings were practically written on her face. “You’ll never have him if you never tell him.” Hypocritical words, but she could never have Shirley either way.

Shirley wrung her hands. “He loves— _loved_ —Stella.”

 _And you love Senel_. “I know you two have this weird brother-sister thing going on, but still, you never know till you try. He might surprise you. And if he doesn’t, at least he’s not about to abandon you over it, right?”

“I guess.” Shirley gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, Fenimore. You are pretty kind deep down.”

Fenimore fought a blush. “We’re friends, right? Friends look out for each other.”

Shirley took her hand, smiley brightly. “Yeah.”

How long ago was that? Weeks? Months? Fenimore could not remember. What she could was the way Shirley smiled at her then, the way her eyes sparkled like tiny infinite pools. She remembered her own regretful longing.

Now Shirley was crying, her beautiful face twisted in agony. Fenimore could not make out her words through the rushing of blood in her ears, but she imagined she was telling her something important. Perhaps she was telling her what happened between her and Senel or even telling her it no longer mattered. But this was silly, because Shirley wasn’t speaking, she was screaming and gasping. Realization forced its way through Fenimor’s stunted brain, hanging there like a wrecking ball.

She was dying. This was the end.

She would have liked to have seen Shirley’s transcendence. She would have liked to have seen Shirley really happy, not her every day happiness but elation from no more hidden longing. At least one of them deserved a happy ending.

But—oh—she just realized she won’t have to feel jealous any longer or live on watching Shirley’s shell of a body continue to live on. Fenimore would be free from it all—the negativity, the prejudice, the emptiness.

A tired smile curved at her lips as Shirley began to shake her with full force. “No!” she shrieked. “This can’t happen again!” Somehow these few words managed to crawl through the noise of leaking blood to what little still functioned of her brain. This wasn’t a bad way to die, she decided.


	6. Day 6: Celebration

Leia takes another sip of beer, marveling at how much the taste has shifted from her first glass to the next to this one. The earthy zip now rests pleasantly on her tongue, and though her head feels thicker, her thoughts float lighter and lighter. She extends her glass, clinking into Jude’s, then Milla’s, then Alvin’s. “To the power of friendship!” she calls gleefully, slipping the tiniest bit in her chair.

“Yeah!” Alvin looks smugly proud of her when she takes a huge gulp this time.

“This flavor really is exquisite,” Milla praises, nodding toward the bartender who smiles good-naturedly in response. “We should come here more often.”

Jude chuckles, eyeing Leia in particular. “I’m not sure that would be the wisest choice.”

To this, Leia scowls. “What, Jude? Am I not allowed to enjoy myself because I’m a _lady_?” The word comes out long and slurred making him cringe.

Milla gives him a reproachful look. “Is that what you are saying, Jude?”

“Huh?” He holds up his hands defensively. “No. I just—I just meant that Leia doesn’t know how to handle her alcohol yet.”

Alvin swung an arm over his shoulder. “And you do?”

“That’s my point. We aren’t all veterans like, you.”

Alvin chortled, downing his entire beer in one swig for emphasis. “Learn from the pro.”

The two of them begin to bicker back and forth, but Leia’s attention was diverted by Milla’s head falling onto her shoulder. “Milla?” she asked, suddenly feeling flustered.

“I’m kind of tired.”

“Should we call it a night?”

“No,” she mumbled, sounding half-asleep already. “You’re shoulder’s nice.”

Leia’s head was heating now as well, or was it boiling? Either way, she couldn’t think straight and the point of contact between them was over-sensitized. Part of her wanted to stroke through the other woman’s hair, but Jude and Alvin were right there, and wouldn’t that be weird? Instead, she fiddled with her glass, no longer interested in drinking it if it meant jostling the Lord of Spirits in the process.

Eventually, the men’s attention fell back on them. There was an odd glint in Alvin’s eyes that Leia didn’t understand. Jude frowned. “We should head back. It’s been a long day.”

Leia tilted her head toward Milla. “I can walk her back. Don’t stop on our account.”

Jude looked unconvinced, but Alvin shrugged and gestured for yet another beer.

“Hey,” she coaxed, giving the woman a gentle nudge, “come on, let’s head back to the inn.”

Milla stretched, making a noise much like a cat, and Leia couldn’t help giggling at how cute it was. As soon as they exited the Duval bar, Milla latched herself onto Leia’s arm. Her voice came out more flustered than she would have liked. “M—milla, what are you doing?”

“Cuddling you.”

“W—why?”

“Because I want to.”

What else had she expected from Milla? She may find humans fascinating, but that didn’t mean she understood their feelings or reciprocated them. “Are you and Jude…” The words came out without her meaning them to, and she bit down on her lip quickly. She was so stupid.

But Milla shook her head. Perhaps she did understand better than she let on. “Jude is just like a puppy, isn’t he?”

An image of Jude with dog ears and a wagging tail popped into her mind, making her smile. “Yeah, he is.”

“It is a master’s duty to care for their pet.”

“What does that make me?” Again, she said the words without meaning to and the dragging silence was unbearable.

“A partner.” The possible implications of the word stopped Leia in her tracks.

“I’m glad you were able to come back to us.”

Milla lifted her head, coming around to face her straight-on. “So am I.”

Leia leaned forward, resting her head on the tip of her shoulder this time. “Do you like me?”

There was no hesitation. “Yes.”

Milla’s hand began stroking through her hair much as she longed to do earlier. Leia was crying before she realized it. Milla cradled her head against her, and a laugh bubbled up in Leia’s throat. All these years she thought she was in love with Jude. For months, she struggled between her jealousy for the woman and her admiration and devotion for the fantastical spirit. But now, somehow none of it mattered anymore. Then Milla kissed the top of her head, and Leia all but melted against her.


End file.
